Category: Poetry

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Phantom Proximity

what is this
this intangible void in which we invade this same space
energies exchanging pleasantry
impassioned, please
the pull of our plight fall elsewhere
 
behind numbered masks
bound to the task of liquid lines
faintly flickering free from threat
as threadbare risk complacent
 
i sense the scents composing inference
how can i say what cannot be seen
your palm caress
a warmth mistaken
 
the truth that lingers loudly
encompassing like lumberingplumes
halting at our phantom presence
outlining arresting proximity
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Defying Silence

fuck the ceiling, looming like tomorrow’s marquee
gaudy flashes from which i must turn
for within lies the ever-present artifice
skulking in dungeons of impulsion

fuck the floor, a cold mirage of hope
rife with arbitrary voids
no measured step bears relevance
pits of quicksand amid houred glass

fuck the door, weak and hingeless
prison cell of self-appointing or shielding from the shrill
one false waft of breath not bated
crumbling point of worlds divided

fuck the words, defying silence
skies of doubting look upon us
laughing in these measured steps
jarring with observant hues

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Ah, Humans

ah, humans being
so wont to not be gotten
so want not to be forgotten
besotted with perpetuance
e’er naught bearing consequence
for quietus looms nigh
as riotous cries are uttered
vying for immortal conquest
dressed in coiled entropy
whilst self-appointing eminence
a burdensome sight
in piteous plight

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Ember

Max Meunier's avatarMax, or Not

love looms amid the earthen shrine
in contrast with truth
pressing onto parchment
muted musings left lingering
for glancing eyes that gaze in contempt
aghast at the ongoing display of decadent debauchery
never have they known such indiscretion
yet none can speak for what is known

the radiance, disarming
its cadence grows stronger
echoing into the abyss of anguish
from one, to other
bearing no consequence of relevant toll
rolling like a snow bound stone
enjoyed by the sun

all of these ancestral affectations
airs of artifice agonizing over every breath
spilled out onto the landscape like leaves
leading to disarray, in lost portrayal

sweet strands of vermilion lick like flames
framing such fragile alabaster allure
alone and aloft
soft tones of humility
exuding from hearth
set upon this heart
rekindled by kindred coalescence
windswept into one regret
and set to the serenity of solitude’s song

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Context

shadows whisper a name most familiar

set to song in the key of entropy

steadied strikes assail the mind’s doorway

each effort to answer met with lulling silence

our truths are not told in mere content alone

lest we have naught but a skeleton’s passage

implore as we might, as surely as we seek

a picture to placate our desolate dialogue

shall nary replace the toilsome turning

of pages not privy to prodding nor poring

a misbegotten narrative so begets

but is not soon forgotten

by seraphim stripped, a perilous play

for prismatic plumage portrayed

by peacock in prominent display

will waver in iridescent hues

defined by light cast from perspectives

as told by the heart that would seeketh

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A Pen Is

a pen is in my hand
standing on the edge of eden
unfurled fruition of fancied frolic
or icy exile of self domain

imminent refrain
constraining commune
immune yet immured
as marred as marital malady
the mighty unmentionable

extension of our pretense
portending wrath so tender
rending mathematics
moot as mute mire’s mooring

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Upon the Hourglass’ Turn

swaying blades of peridot

alight amid azurite horizon

of clement citrine sunset

in velveteen palanquin

draped in silk brocade

jade hairpin askew

wonted truth presaging

the seizing solemnity

by crook of Anubis

we tendered the ferryman’s toll

stolid in this stagnant state

as fate shed its veils before us

upon the hourglass’ turn

emergent, we shuffled off

our toilsome coils rejoicing

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Ephemeral Souls

unabashed silphium sleeve
impassioned pleas
uttered free from restraint

spirit, bold as black damask
in meadows of pasque
with prose unsurpassed

peculiarly non pareil
pressed onto parchment
in prismatic pigments sprawling

arranged in the strangeness
of strands set at random
expanding in nebulous bloom

wreath of sloe flowing
in slow rippled cadence
diffusely drawn out reaching all

as an echo eternalized
amid jutting earth scarred
and scattering sky of ensconcing

ethereal energies emanate
from mien marred by mask
of perpetual phantom interface

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